


Let Me Care for You

by Boundlessmignonette



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Brief mentionings of other characters, Cuddles, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, M/M, Sickfic, grantaires little sniffles, idiots being cutes, modern!AU, neither of them know what to do with eachohter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-27
Updated: 2013-07-27
Packaged: 2017-12-21 12:14:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/900188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boundlessmignonette/pseuds/Boundlessmignonette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So when Grantaire finally did crawl into bed, he curled into his sheets with a sigh, ignoring the growing chill in his room as best as he could; after all, he expected a long day ahead of him come tomorrow. </p><p>What he did not expect, however, was to wake up with  a cough and a river for a nose.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Me Care for You

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! So this was just a little something I promised a few people I'd finish. So here you go; have a little sick fic. Enjoy! c:

The meeting that night had taken longer than usual, with Enjolras checking to make sure everybody was prepared for the protest they had planned for tomorrow afternoon. 

The group had decided to stand out in the front of one of the largest banks in the city, hoping to shed some light on some of the things that their government was spending the people's tax dollars on, and how it often went to causes that many tax payers were both unaware of and would probably not agree to. Plans were discussed, and petitions were created; all key points and issues to be addressed were written down to ensure that the whole group knew what they were going to be talking about. Enjolras had assigned each of them a different job; he, along with Joly and Combeferre were in charge of the speech; Eponine, Cosette, Marius, and Courfeyrac were in charge of getting people to sign the petition. Feuilly, and Grantaire were in charge of making the banners and signs, while Bahorel and Jehan would help them to advertise them. 

Deciding to get things done ahead of time, Feuilly and he had set out to get all the posters done, working diligently until all of them were ready to go. 

By the time everything was finished, it was well past midnight, and Grantaire secretly dreaded the walk back to his apartment. Truthfully, it wasn't too far away; but he knew it was already well below freezing temperature outside, and the only thing he'd bothered to throw on is a simple pair of jeans and a light jacket over a plain t-shirt. He'd be freezing by the time he got back home. 

Before he walked out of the Musain, both Jehan and Courfeyrac had offered him a ride home. Not wanting to impose on anyone, he politely declined, saying that he would be alright and that the walk to his place wasn't that bad. If Enjolras had given him a faint look of concern, he was out the door much too fast to notice. 

The first flurry of snowflakes were just beginning to fall by the time Grantaire stumbled into his apartment, red-nosed and shivering with cold.

Sighing in relief to finally be home, he shut the door gently behind him and dumped his keys in a dish he had set on the kitchen counter. His shoes were slipped off at the entrance before he moved towards his bedroom to change out of his damp clothing. 

Grantaire knew his meager apartment wasn't much; it had one bedroom, one restroom, a small small living room and a little kitchen. It was decently spacious, if not a little bare, having only the basic furniture and appliances, but at least it was a bit warmer than it was outside, even if it was drafty and sometimes did little to block the chill from seeping in. It would have been warmer if he had proper heating, but the unit broke a few weeks prior, and he didn't have the means to have it fixed in time for the cold weather. At this point he was just grateful to have a bed to sleep in and blankets to keep him warm, a small amount of food to at least keep himself going. 

So when Grantaire finally did crawl into bed, after quickly discarding his jeans and wet shirt for a pair of black pajama pants and a dry shirt, he curled into his sheets with a sigh, ignoring the growing chill in his room as best as he could; after all, he expected a long day ahead of him come tomorrow. 

What he did not expect, however, was to wake up with a cough and a river for a nose. 

Groaning, he shifted from his spot wrapped up in the blanket, wanting nothing more than for sleep to claim him once more. It would have been easy if not for the horrendous spinning of the room and the pain blooming beneath his eyelids. He knew he needed to get up and get himself dressed to go meet everyone at the cafe to prepare for the protest, but he found that his limbs did not seem to want to cooperate with him in the least. Already he could feel his body begin to protest against any sort of movement, so he screwed his eyes shut and curled in further against the churning of stomach, willing himself to relax. He was forced to sit up, however, as a wave of nausea rolled suddenly over him, and he barely had enough time to make his way to the restroom before surrendering the contents of his stomach to the toilet. 

His whole body seemed to lurch with the force of his heaving, and when he finally pulled back to catch his breath , he felt as if he could barely keep himself upright. A shaky arm rose up to swipe at his mouth before reaching over to flush the toilet. For a moment he gave into his fatigue, weakly resting his cheek against the surface of the porcelain. It was a move the he knew good and well Joly would scold him for had he been there; but sanitation be damned, the thing was cool against his skin and he was so hot. He would've fallen asleep right there on the floor if not for his already aching body taking care to remind him just how sore he'd be upon waking if he stayed there.

Grasping the counter for leverage, Grantaire hauled himself to his feet, rinsing his mouth at the sink before padding back into the bedroom, where he unceremoniously flopped back onto the bed. The mattress groaned underneath his weight as he moved himself into a more comfortable position once the room stopped spinning. All strength seemed to leave him, and all he could do was pull the blankets back over himself and roll over onto his side, desperately trying to ignore the pounding of his head. 

Grantaire was no fool; although he hated to admit it, he knew he'd come down with something, probably caught it during his late night endeavors. Most likely the flu, by the feel of it. 

But he knew that calling anyone for assistance was something he could hardly consider as an option. 

Joly would fuss endlessly over him ( not that he ever truly minded), which he knew he probably needed if he hoped to get well again in time for the protest later, but he hated to worry the man. Same with Combeferre, and the last thing he wanted was to feel like more of a burden than usual. Courfeyrac would no doubt spend the whole time talking Grantaire into oblivion. Not to mention he was probably shit at taking care of sick people (not that Grantaire needed to confess that.) And Enjolras? He wasn't even going to go there. A pissed off Enjolras barking at him to take better care of himself and to take more responsibility for his own actions was the absolute last thing he needed. Not that the man would find his well being more important than the protests he'd put so much effort into planning. He knew how hard Enjolras had worked to put everything together for this, and the man was always rambling on about how little their own needs meant in the face of the greater need, the greater cause. They had also already found a spot that was right in front of the bank and in the center of a busy Main street, where they would be guaranteed to gain the people's attention, and Grantaire knew that this was too great an opportunity for them to miss out on just because he went and caught himself the flu. If the guilt alone didn't kill him, then surely the blonde would do it himself. More so, he couldn't risk showing weakness now; he knew that Enjolras was expecting him to be there to help and support the group. He'd do anything to please Apollo, even if that meant disregarding his own health. 

Besides, Grantaire mused, it wasn't as if it could become significantly worse than what it already was. He refused to be taken down by a mere bug; he'd dealt with much worse things than some cough and a runny nose. He'd just give himself an hour or two to get back on his feet (more literally than he would have appreciated.) Enjolras most likely wouldn't notice his absence at the meeting anyways, since he's more likely to be scrambling around gathering everything he'd need and checking his speech for any flaws or miscalculations. And if he did, well, he probably wouldn't complain much about it either. A small part of him wondered if Apollo actually expected him to show up at all, if he really put that much trust into him. 

His eyebrows knitted as more coughs shook his body. Sighing, he curled up in his blanket, sniffling wetly as he gave into his exhaustion and allowed himself to drift off into a fitful sleep. He was so tired, in fact, that he failed to notice his cell buzzing on the small nightstand next to his bed. 

.

Enjolras nervously chewed his lip as he paced the floor, watching as everyone around him scrambled to gather up everything they would need to head over to, "the spot", as they'd dubbed it. Marius made sure to grab the onslaught of papers and a generous amount of pens while Courfeyrac, Cosette, and Eponine wrangled up some chairs and the small table they'd use to hold the petitions. The rest were helping to collect all of the banners and signs that they would advertise. Doing a head count, Enjolras heaved a great sigh. 

It seemed as though everyone was there. Except, of course for Grantaire. 

He furrowed his brows, wondering where the other man was and musing over what could of hindered him from showing up. Surely he knew how important it was that they all be here; after all, the more people they had, the better chance they had of gaining the publics attention. 

Maybe a part of Enjolras secretly just wanted Grantaire to be there with him. 

Thoughts beside, Grantaire wasn't here, and that was enough to baffle Enjolras. The protest was in two hours; surely he would have shown by now? It couldn't have been a hangover; Grantaire (surprisingly) did not touch a single bottle the night before. Didn't even so much as glance at one, since he promised Enjolras he would be one hundred percent prepared for this, which included being absolutely sober. If not that, then what could it be? 

A thought struck Enjolras so suddenly that his breath caught full in his throat. It had been past midnight, already nearing one or so in the morning by the time everyone had gotten around to leaving the Musain to go home. Most of the group found rides with each other, but Grantaire had refused, insisting on walking home himself, since he didn't want to bother anyone. Enjolras may been too tired to pay it much mind last night, but now it was like a bitter slap in the face. 

Grantaire had walked back to his flat last night. _ALONE._ _BY HIMSELF._ And well past the time it would be considered even a little bit safe at that. 

His heart raced as his mind swam with horrid possibilities, things he never wanted to have to take into consideration, and that alone was enough to make him blanch. Had Grantaire made it home alright? Why had no one bothered to call him to make sure? Why hadn't HE called to make sure? Anything could have happened to him, as reluctant as Enjolras was to admit it, even to himself. Guilt and worry tightened his chest. Gaining everyone's attention, he asked them if anyone of them had called Grantaire last night or this morning to make sure he was alright. 

Jehan and Eponine shook their head and sent each other concerned glances. Everyone else muttered and looked to the floor awkwardly. 

Pulling out his cell phone, Enjolras dialed Grantaire's number, pacing back and forth while waiting for him to answer. He called a second time, and a third, hoping that his friend had just slept in late and would wake upt to respond and tell him that hed be there. Four calls later and still no response. 

It took no Enjolras no more than three seconds after that to make up his mind. 

Turning to Combeferre, he asked him almost pleadingly if he could handle the rest of the meeting, at least until he got back. When he agreed, Enjolras gave him a thankful look before turning to throw on his jacket. Before he left, Enjolras turned back around and gathered Combeferre in a loving embrace. He was so thankful to have such an amazing friend that was there to help him in his times of need. All of his friends were amazing, really. And he strongly suspected that right now, Grantaire needed him to be a friend, too. 

A cold breeze swept through the room and the door shut softly behind him as he walked out, apologies already tumbling off his lips. 

.

By the time Enjolras reached Grantaire's apartment, his face and hands had gone numb with the cold. He wrapped his scarf ( a gift that Joly had given him on his birthday the previous year ) tighter around his neck, winding the red fabric so that it pooled lightly on his chest, reserving at least some of his warmth. Huffing out a breath, he trudged up the stairs leading to the doorway of Grantaire's apartment. Once there, he paused hesitantly before gently rapping his knuckles against the door. After about a minute or so he knocked again, louder this time. Still he received no answer. He sighed, wracking his brain for a way to get into Grantaire's apartment when he remembered that Grantaire had told him that he kept a spare key in a little potted plant on his doorstep, should Enjolras ever need access to his home. Looking around, he spotted the plant tucked into the small corner closest to the door. Sifting through the dirt a bit, his fingers brushed against something cold, and his hand closed around the key. Relieved, he pulled it out of the pot, brushing the remaining soil off before sticking it in the lock and turning it. 

Enjolras eased the door open slowly, wincing when the hinges creaked noisily. First wiping his boots on the mat outside, he stepped in, closing the door behind him as quietly as he could. For a moment, he stood there awkwardly, glancing around at the small living space. Even though he'd been inside Grantaire's apartment before, he'd never taken the time to actually _look_ at anything. From where he was standing, he could see that the living room consisted simply of a set of couches, a love-seat, and a coffee table. Situated in the corner facing the furniture was a small television perched atop a small cabinet, cable box set on top of it and remote placed next to it. It wasn't abnormal in any way; no, it was a simple arrangement, neat and tidy. But that was what shocked him the most! Guiltily enough, Enjolras had always expected Grabtaire's home to be highly disorganized, with clothes and paint brushes and bottles alike strewn messily about. In reality, it was the exact opposite, and the revelation had him reeling with the fact of how _little_ he actually knew of Grantaire. Did he really pay that little mind to him? 

A sudden cough broke his train of thought. Looking around, he set his gaze on the hallway, figuring it must have come from the direction of the bedroom. Entering the hallway and making his way toward the room, he found the door to be open already, and visibly sighed in relief at the sight of his friend curled upon the bed, buried in the blankets. However, he tensed up again when he heard another raspy cough, followed by a groan and some shifting from underneath the covers. Enjolras hesitated. "Grantaire?" 

The small lump under the blankets shifted a few more times before a groggy looking Grantaire popped out, sleep disoriented and blinking at him blearily. Rubbing at his eyes, he weakly croaked, "Apollo? Is that you?" Before seeming to give up on sitting up and let his body plop back down on the mattress, looking pale and weary. 

Whatever scolding Enjolras had planned on giving him seemed to instantly die on his tongue once he took in the look of his friend falling limp and exhausted onto his bed. Concerned, Enjolras moved closer, sitting on the bed and placing his hand timidly on Grantaire's brow before pulling it away as though he'd been stung. Grantaire was BURNING; he took care to express this to him.

"Grantaire! You're burning up! How long have you been like this?" 

Looking confused, Grantaire mumbled, "Burning? I feel like an ice cube." To prove his point he burrowed further into his blankets. However, he seemed to realize something, and jolted up faster than Enjolras could react. "Wait, _ENJOLRAS_?What are you doing _here_?You should be at the Musain getting everything ready! Oh my god, what time is it?! Did I already miss the protest? I-" His ranting was cut off by a coughing fit that had him doubled over, covering his mouth and desperately trying to stop it. Alarmed, Enjolras rose swiftly to assist the other, pulling him against him until it finally passed, with Grantaire left leaning wearily against him, clutching at his chest and trying his best to regain his breath. When he did, he shifted against Enjolras' chest, and after realizing where he was leaning, tried to pull away. However, it seemed the fit had robbed him of the last of his strength, and Enjolras caught him before he fell to the floor, pulling him once to more to his chest and leaning back slightly to allow Grantaire to relax. Pushing back a few curls from Gramtaire's forehead, Enjolras cleared his throat before asking the previous question again. "How long have you been like this, Grantaire?" 

The other winced at the seriousness in his voice, but answered none the less, sighing. "Since this morning, I think. I didn't already miss the protest already, did I? If I did I'm really sorry. I tried to get up this morning, I really did, but... Things didn't exactly work out." 

The guilt and apparent self-loathing in his voice made Enjolras heart clench with sorrow. Here he was thinking that this man wasn't devoted, while here he really was trying to struggle his way out of bed while he could barely even _sit up_. The guilt he felt was almost crippling. 

"No, you haven't missed it yet, don't worry, we aren't scheduled til at least another three hours. But Grantaire, you can barely sit up in your bed! You're obviously in no condition to go anywhere but _BACK_ to bed. Thank goodness I got here before you did something stupid like actually try to _GET OUT OF BED_." At that, Grantaire winced. "Or am I somehow too late for that, too?" 

Glancing up at him, Grantaire gave him an apologetic look. "Yeah, you kinda are, sorry. I, uh, got really nauseous and had to use the restroom. I made it back to bed ok, though. I had planned in calling you guys to let you know I'd try to be there in a couple hours, but I guess I fell back to sleep before I could." 

Enjolras scoffed. "Knowing you, 'falling back to sleep' probably means that you passed out as soon as you hit the bed. You need to be more careful Grantaire! I don't want you to go and get yourself hurt." Multiple emotions seemed to flit across Grantaire's expression all at once before it settled on something that closely resembled adoration. The notion had Enjolras blushing faintly; perhaps he had imagined it, although part of him hoped he hadn't. Not that he'd admit that just now. 

Coughing lamely into his fist, Enjolras replied. "I'll just have to call Combeferre and tell him to postpone the protest until Friday, so that we can work on getting you back up on your feet." 

Almost immediately, Grantaire started, making a move to spring back up if not for the hand that held him back. "Enjolras!" He exclaimed, and said man's eyebrows rose at the use of his proper name. Grantaire must've meant business. "You've been planning this all week! Surely I'll be well enough on my own. You mustn't sit here and worry over me. Go enlighten the people with your limitless knowledge, and show them the flaws in the way their government chooses to spend the money they've worked so hard for!" Grantaire's tone was just the slightest bit joking, but serious none the less, although the effect of the grin on his face was ruined by the coughs that shook his frame shortly afterwards. Sweat beaded his brow out of exertion this time, and Enjolras used the sleeve of his coat to gently mop it up. Moving so that he could softly lay Grantaire back on the bed, he sat beside him, giving him a thoroughly exasperated look. "You cannot be serious Grantaire. Why wouldn't I care about your health? You're my friend and I care for you very much! You're important to me! Of course I'm going to worry over you!" 

It may have been his imagination once more (because really, it seemed so active today) but he could've sworn that Grantaire's cheeks turned just a few shades darker at the comment. 

Sputtering, said man protested. "Really, Apollo! I'll be alright. Just go ahead and do it without me. I can take care of myself here. The protest is more important anyways." 

Again with that damned self-deprecating attitude. Enjolras huffed. "I will not hear anymore of this nonsense Grantaire! It would do you well to stop now, because you are not convincing me otherwise! Just excuse me for a moment while I step out to call Combeferre, and then I'll have a look around to see of I can find you some medicine, alright?" Before the other could protest, he'd grabbed his phone and walked out of the room. 

With a grunt Grantaire leaned back against the pillows. He had a COLD for fucks sake! So why was Enjolras suddenly treating him like a child, stuck in bed and incapable of taking care of himself? It wasn't as if he deserved that kind of care anyways.  
He groaned, a hand reaching up to run at his temples. His head felt about ready to burst open, and his stressing over things definitely wasn't helping. 

Still, he couldn't help but think, what if Enjolras doesn't really want to be here? What if he finally realizes how useless Grantaire is, how he only gets in the way and the only thing he can do is sit down for a drink? He'll kick him out of the group, and then he'll be all alone again. Left with nothin but his own bitter disappointment like a foul thing resting heavy on his tongue, and the wine burning harsh in the back of his throat. The thoughts were enough to make him sick all over again, and it took all of his strength to lunge out of bed and to the restroom in time to not be sick all over the floor. 

.

Enjolras waited silently for Combeferre to answer his phone, worrying his lip between his teeth. While he knew that Grantaire was sick, he also knew that he was stubborn. He could use a little advice from the med student on what to do for Grantaire, at the very least what  
to do to get his fever down some and to quell that worrisome cough. He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn't notice that Combeferre had answered until his name was being called through the phone. 

"Enjolras?" 

"Uh, yes, sorry 'ferre! How's everything going?" 

"Everything over here is going well! Everyone is taking a small lunch break as of current, but were ready whenever you are. How's Grantaire?" 

Enjolras sighs into the receiver. "That's what I was calling about, actually. He's sick, with fever and a pretty nasty cough, and I have no idea what I'm going to do with him." 

Combeferre gave a small 'tsk'. "Perhaps from walking all the way home in the cold last night? It's surely no surprise; the man was wearing nothing but a thin sweater and jeans! Hardly substantial in this sort of weather I would say. What are his symptoms?" 

"From what I can tell he's got the fever and cough, like I had said, and I believe he'd also mentioned something about having gotten ill this morning. But more than that he barely seems able to keep himself upright! I had to practically hold him earlier to prevent him from falling over." 

Combeferre took a moment to consider this. Enjolras held his breath. 

"Hmmm from the sound of it he's probably just caught himself a cold." 

He exhaled slowly in relief, shoulders slumping. 

"You'll need to keep him warm, hydrated, maybe have him drink some broth and eat a few saltines whenever he feels up to it. Some aspirin should do to bring down his fever and aid that cough. Oh, and Enj, I don't mean to put more on your plate, but what about the protest?" 

Enjolras chuckled. "That's the other thing I called you about. Do you think it would be alright to postpone it until Friday or so? I don't mean to do that to everyone, but..." 

He could practically hear Combeferre's smile through the phone. "Don't worry, I'll take care of that, alright? You just focus on getting Grantaire better. " 

"Thanks, 'ferre! I owe you." 

Hanging up, Enjolras began to go through the list of things he'd need for Grantaire. Speaking of which, he'd better go check up on him. As he neared the hallway, he heard what sounded vaguely like sobbing, which had him baffled. Was that Grantaire?

.

It turns out that Grantaire had mad a dash to the restroom just in time, his stomach turning violently as he was forced to vomit for the second time that morning. Because he had no food in his stomach, only bile came up, and when there was none of that either he was left to drive heave, clutching the sides of the bowl. His throat stung harshly, every heave making the pain worse, and hurt enough to send tears rolling down his cheeks. He felt utterly pathetic, reduced to a weak puddle of sick on the floor, useless and vulnerable; the thought brought on a new wave of tears for an entirely different reason, and soon he has to clamp his hands over his mouth in an attempt to stifle his sobbing. He must've looked a mess as it was; he didn't need Apollo to see him sobbing on the bathroom floor too.

However, he deemed, it was too late for that, as not even a minute later he heard Enjolras calling his name and knocking lightly on the door. This, for reasons even Grantaire didn't understand, served to make his sobbing worse. He wasn't sure how long he stayed like that, kneeling on the floor bent in on himself, but he soon felt a pair of surprisingly strong arms pull him up, turning him around and cradling his head against a broad chest. Scrambling for purchase, Grantaire clung desperately to Enjolras, throwing his arms around his neck and burying his face into his shirt, fighting to gain control of his erratic crying. Enjolras didn't question him yet, just held him there, stroking his hair and trying his best to help calm him.

Once Grantaire felt that he could breathe again, he looked up at Enjolras with watery eyes, giving him an almost pleading look that alarmed him on some level. "I-..." He took a breath. " I'm sorry about all this, and how annoying this must be, how annoying I must be. You could be doing more important stuff, but instead you're stuck here with me, giving me care I don't even _deserve_ , and I-" He was silenced, this time by Enjolras placing a hand over his mouth. When he looked up, he felt about ready to cry all over again.  
Enjolras was giving him this incredibly soft smile, so radiant, yet so very tender and it was almost enough to break him all over again. 

He spoke. "Grantaire, none of the words that have just left your mouth are or will ever be true. I care for you so very much, certainly more than you know. And nothing is more important than the well being of those who I care for, including- no,  
 _especially_ you. So stop this incessant slander, because as long as you allow me to, I will always care for you, and you will never be a bother." 

When Enjolras pulled him in for an almost crushing embrace, he gulped back a sob and returned it with as much strength as he could muster. 

.

Getting Grantaire settled back into bed and giving him some aspirin, Enjolras set off to the kitchen to prepare to cups of tea, since Grantaire had declined the offer of any sort of food. 

Twenty minutes later they say side by side on Grantaire's bed, Enjolras reading a random book he'd picked off of one of the shelves and Grantaire leaning against his shoulder, snuggling into his blankets with small sniffles that Enjolras found absolutely adorable. This time, he took care to mention this to Grantaire, who chuckled weakly with a soft blush settling on his cheeks. He had a light smile on his face, something that Enjolras wished would never leave his face. It made him look _content_ with himself for once, which was so rare it made Enjolras' chest flutter at the sight. Even after only an hour he was beginning to look and sound much better; the fever had even gone down a good amount too, much to Enjolras' relief. 

"I wouldn't expect you of all people to find anything remotely adorable about me, Apollo." 

He smiled down at Grantaire, who looked right back at him with those transfixing blue eyes. "I find a lot of things about you adorable, even if I don't always tell you." 

"Oh really, now? Like what?"

Another smile, this time wider. "The way you sing, the way you draw, the way you laugh,..." 

He stops to poke Grantaire in the nose, eliciting a giggle from him before continuing. "... The way you smile. I love many things about you. In fact.." 

Fear be damned, Enjolras thought. He'd never felt a stronger urge to envelop this man in his arms and never let go. To show him just how much he cared. How much he always had. 

At the last part, Grantaire inhaled audibly, breath catching in his throat as he looked up with frantic eyes. "What?" 

Grinning, he swooped down and gave Grantaire a soft peck on the lips, tangling his fingers with the mans own. Grantaire all but squeaked, and the combination of the noise and his surprised, but joyous face was something Enjolras never wanted, and never would forget. 

Maybe Grantaire wasn't ok right now, in more than one sense, and maybe he never would be. But no matter what, as long as he permitted Enjolras to be the one that remained by his side throughout whatever life decided to throw at him, he would gladly take it. He would take this amazing man any way he came, so  
as long as Grantaire permitted it. 

If the zealous look in the others expression accounts for anything, he'd say that he does. 

"I love _you_."

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to come say hi on [Tumblr](http://boundlessmignonette.tumblr.com) !


End file.
